


Drowning

by grethan-allmance (Sapphire09)



Series: Grethan Drabbles [12]
Category: The Dolan Twins, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst, But feel free to see it whichever way you want, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Protectiveness, References to Depression, or something like it, suicidal tendency, the author isn't actually sure, this is angsty, this is not very shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire09/pseuds/grethan-allmance
Summary: There was a mystery to water, it hides its depth and washes away everything. Inside it, everything was quiet, muted and silent. It calms the noisiness of his brain. Being lost without getting lost. Being free without being untethered.Water hides his tears when he wanted to cry. Muffled his voice when he wanted to scream. It hides him when he felt like breaking. It kept him together if only because when he was under, he didn't feel like he would get lost.Sometimes, he wondered how it would feel to stay underwater beyond his limit. If someone would hold him down under.He wondered if it's possible for Ethan to do it for him.





	1. Chapter 1

Grayson likes water.

He likes being surrounded by water. Pool, river, lake, or in his own bathtub, there was a kind of calm he likes about it. The smell of chlorine reminded him of summer. The salty smell of the ocean made him think of playing with Ethan under the sun, tingly sand stuck under his feet. Even the water in his own bathtub seems to have a scent, clearwater fresh that, to him, was deeply ingrained as the specific scent of _water._

There was a mystery to water, it hides its depth and washes away everything. Inside it, everything was quiet, muted and silent. It calms the noisiness of his brain. Being lost without getting lost. Being free without being untethered.

He couldn't remember since when he liked to fill up his bathtub with water and let himself be submerged in it. Hold his breath for as long as he could, until his lungs burns, until he would be desperate for air. He just liked the way it made him feel something when he felt numb and nothing seemed to matter.

There was nothing claustrophobic when he was underwater. There was only _calm._

Eventually, being able to last longer and longer underwater felt like such an accomplishment.

He didn't tell Ethan about that habit, somehow. It was the one secret he kept to himself. After all, what was there to tell? It was just water, and staying under was a game he invented for himself. Ethan would make it a competition, but that wasn't what the game was for. 

Ethan never found him out either. After all, Grayson was the one that liked pushing Ethan's boundaries, while Ethan has always been content in his own space. He wasn't one to come barge into Grayson's space unannounced. It was times like this that Grayson was grateful instead of dejected for having a brother that likes his space.

In LA, the habit continues. Even when they were living in a small apartment and they had to share a bathroom, Grayson would find an opportunity to indulge in his habit. When Ethan left on his own, when he would hang out with people without Grayson, the younger twin would fill up the bathtub and lay in it, until his head was underwater too. Until he heard nothing but the sounds filtered by the water. Until he felt that calm again, like the still water he was under.

Water hides his tears when he wanted to cry. Muffled his voice when he wanted to scream. It hides him when he felt like breaking. It kept him together if only because when he was under, he didn't feel like he would get lost.

Sometimes, he wondered how it would feel to stay underwater beyond his limit. If someone would hold him down under.

He wondered if it's possible for Ethan to do it for him.

( _Never._ )

* * *

Ethan sometimes questioned how Grayson could hold his breath for so long.

Grayson always deflected, saying things like better lung capacity, better workout routine, or that Ethan had less workout. Responses that made Ethan roll his eyes or look unimpressed. Ethan wasn't stupid, he must've seen through Grayson's deflection. Still, Ethan wouldn't pry further, content in letting Grayson have his secrets.

(Grayson wondered if Ethan just didn't care enough for the answer.)

Still, he was afraid of getting found out. So, when they went for a swim or for a dive, sometimes he would surface before he had to. Count up to 10 before coming up for air. Taking care not to hold his breath for _too_ long. Sometimes, competitiveness would make him forget himself. But, he _tried_.

To be honest, Grayson didn't think he was doing something wrong. It was a habit. It wasn't like he was _tryin_ g to drown himself. How could he? It was just _therapeutic_ , the water. And, it wasn't like he was doing it in a deep ocean or pool. He was just in his bathtub, having a relaxing time. It wasn't like he _added_ weights on him, to keep himself from surfacing, to stay under just for a little bit longer.

(He wanted to. He considered it. Before he decided Ethan might get suspicious if he noticed a weight was missing from their training room.)

It was just a coping method.

(It probably wasn't very healthy, as coping methods went.)

(He couldn't stop anyway.)

* * *

It all came to a head a few days after their father's death.

After the funeral procession, Grayson filled up his bathtub and shed his black, funeral suit. His fingers were numb and he felt cold. Somehow, he managed to remove all his clothing, making a pile of black on the bathroom floor.

He stepped into the filled tub, sitting inside it. The warm water did little to soothe him. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. It was _unfai_ r.

So he took a shaky breath and lay further down, let his knees bend as his head plunged underwater. He closed his eyes and listened to the silent echo, the sound of water.

No one would realize if he cried right here. No one would see. No one would look at him with pity or concern. No one would look as if he would break, just a tear away. 

(He didn't have to listen to their words, telling him to be strong, telling him to hang in there, telling him how to feel when he could barely feel _anything.)_

If he opened his mouth, water would rush in, filling his mouth and lungs. He could be drowning his screams along with him.

No one would know.

No one would _hear._

He thought about it as he waited for the burn in his lungs, for the need for air, and holding it some more until his brain resets.

Like this, it felt like he could finally _slee_ p.

* * *

He must've been so out of it that he didn't remember to lock the bathroom door.

* * *

Grayson's lungs were burning, asking for oxygen. But, Grayson held on, even as he wanted to draw in a breath. He could do this, he thought. Just a little more, as long as he kept himself focused. His body doesn't have to panic, he's _fine_. 

_Just a little more, just a bit more, then I'll come up._

So, when he suddenly heard his name being called, alarmed and too close from the tub, then a hand plunged and pulling him up, the surprise made him gasp and water got into his mouth, his throat, his _lung_ s.

He coughed and hacked, trying to breathe through the burn of water passing through his trachea. There was just a tiny amount of water he accidentally inhaled, but it hurt. His chest hurts and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't _breathe._

_"Shit, shit!"_ He heard through water-logged ears as he hacked and hacked, trying to get that bit of water out. Grayson was light-headed, but the pain in his chest was fading and he realized he was being embraced. White shirt was plastered wet on skin, shoulders shaking as if cold.

The water was still warm.

"Ethan?" He asked, voice sounding like it went through a grinder. The arms around him tightened.

"What the _fuck_ were you _doing?_ "

Ethan's voice was hard, _angr_ y. Even though his shoulders were shaking, his hands trembling on Grayson's skin, his voice was so, _so_ ** _angr_** **y**.

"I was taking a bath," Grayson answered hazily. "I could still smell the dirt on the way home. I just didn't want to smell it anymore."

"Since when a bath involves you trying to drown yourself?"

Ethan's grip was bruising now. But, right now, that burn was a tether and he focused on breathing.

He realized how it must look like to Ethan.

"I do that, sometimes," the words came out without thought. "It was nice, you know. Under there. Calming. Felt like I could go to _slee_ p."

It was like a physical defect, being unable to lie to your own twin brother. 

Ethan stilled.

Ethan's hold on Grayson loosened, until there were just his hands on Grayson's shoulders, eyes wide and _scared,_ looking right at Grayson.

Grayson couldn't look back. He stared at the water around him, wishing he could go back to that silence.

"What does that mean?"

When Grayson didn't immediately answer, Ethan's grip on his shoulders were more punishing.

"Grayson, what the _fuck_ does that _mean!?"_

_Scared._

Ethan was _scare_ d.

"Can I get dressed first?" Grayson tried. He wanted to stall. Find the words. He couldn't—not now.

Besides, he didn't want either Mom or Cam to see them like this. To see _him_ like this. Ethan left the bathroom door open behind him. They could be heard. Anyone could _see_.

What would they think, with Ethan clothed and wet, looking scared, and Grayson held tight in his grip, just after their father's service was done? Maybe, they won't think of anything.

Or maybe, they'll take the wrong conclusion. Just like Ethan does.

Ethan looked conflicted, wanting his immediate answer but also realized it would be better if they can go somewhere more private. Like their room.

So, he let Grayson go. Watchful eyes following Grayson as he took a towel and dried himself. Ethan took the time to discard his wet shirt too, taking a towel to dry himself.

Back in their room, both of them already changed to more comfortable clothes. Ethan waited, eyes hard as he waited for Grayson to talk.

"First of all, I swear I'm not suicidal," Grayson thought he should start with that. "I get depressed, but I swear I never wanted to, like, kill myself or anything like that. I won't do that to you, especially right now. I _swear,_ Ethan."

Ethan's jaw clenched. Grayson realized it was hard to believe after what he had seen. Especially with the timing of it.

Even to Grayson's ears, he knew he sounded like he was in denial. But, he _wasn't._

_He wasn't._

"I've been doing it since middle school," Grayson admitted. "It's not-- I didn't do it because of _thi_ s. I just... It was how I cope. With things. When I feel numb. Or, just. Sad. I.... Take baths. I get underwater."

There was an expression on Ethan's face that Grayson couldn't properly name. An expression that Grayson couldn't look at for too long, that made him feel shame.

"I'm sorry..."

Ethan still hasn't said anything.

Grayson bit his lips, nervous about what Ethan was thinking. He couldn't read him, like this.

"Can you stop doing it?" Ethan eventually said. "When you have problems, when you feel numb, or when you're sad. Can't you just. Come to me? Or, if you don't think I'm reliable, can't you go to—Mom? Someone?"

"I always go to you," Grayson answered. "But, sometimes... It just felt like I need it too."

"You don't," Ethan said stubbornly. "You need—better routine. Or—or breathing exercises. Yoga. Meditation. _Tea_. _Whatever else_ but _this_."

Ethan then stood up.

"I don't have to be a genius to know that what you're doing can't be healthy. Brain needs air, right? Oxygen? If you think it was okay to continue this shit then the whole oxygen deprivation you've been doing already made you stupider already."

It was a childish comeback. Made out of fear, anger, and recklessness. It made Grayson wonder what went through Ethan's brain when he found Grayson in the tub.

It wasn't the time for a fight. Ethan was scared. They were both grieving. All of them are. It doesn't matter that Grayson _wasn't_ suicidal.

"Okay," Grayson said, "I'll stop. I'll work on it. I promise."

There was a relaxed slump on Ethan's shoulders, despite the words feeling empty on Grayson's lips. Grayson convinced himself it wasn't, anyway.

* * *

Grayson did try to keep his promise. Ethan has been watching him closely anyway. Once they returned to LA, Ethan began barging in more often into Grayson's room. He eyed the tub in Grayson's bathroom distrustfully, though he didn't say anything. When they went for a swim, even in their own pool, Ethan seemed to stick close, tugging him up if he deemed Grayson was being underwater for too long.

But, eventually Ethan seemed slowly let down his guard. Or his laziness just rearing his head. Perhaps, he finally realized he was overreacting over nothing at all.

Besides, Grayson did try. He really didn't want to worry Ethan. 

He just... missed it.

He missed it so much.

_Just this once is fine, right?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: part 2! Warning: uhhh angst, I guess.

Grayson wondered if this was how an addict feels. Though, while drugs can be bad for a person's health, Grayson couldn't really think there was anything wrong with what he was doing. After all, it wasn't like he was hurting himself.

He promised himself it was just for _this_ one time, it'll be the only one. Just once. After all, he had promised Ethan to never do it again.

But, when he emerged out of the water, his lungs burning and yet so _clearheaded,_ he wondered why he should stop.

There was probably something he was missing since while he acknowledged his coping method scared Ethan, he didn't really get why it has to be. Sure, the timing when Ethan found him was bad, but otherwise, this thing he was doing wasn't really hurting anyone. Not even himself, he didn't think. He wasn't trying to drown himself. It was just like.... Diving. Right? He wasn't even doing it in the open water, just in his bathtub.

He was in a controlled environment. It was safe.

Still, he was serious about trying to stop since he didn't want to make Ethan worry. Maybe, it _was_ a bad habit to have. All he knew was that the _timing_ for Ethan to find out, to know his secret coping method, was terrible.

It was just too early, too close to their father's death. Ethan was still trying to process it. Still. So does Grayson. They just have a different method of coping with overwhelming thoughts and the feeling of loss, as they did their best to adapt to living in a world that no longer has that big presence in their life.

For Grayson, it was to stay underwater for a long period of time and feel the burn in his lungs as they screamed for air. Under the water, it felt like the world stopped temporarily, muffling everything away from his senses. For a short while, there was only him and the tranquillity water brings him. He didn't have to do anything, not even breathe, as let himself feel the grief that was always teetering at the edge of his mind, threatening to consume him with all the dark, biting pain it brings if he wasn't careful, or leave him with such cold numbness that he couldn't feel anything at all.

Just once. _Just this onc_ e.

He needed a release.

While they have started filming again, pretending for the world that they were getting over their father's death—

 _Is it even possible to do? Dad's presence was so big, so strong in their life, that Grayson still forgets that he can't call Dad's number anymore to whine about Ethan or to ask for advice._ _That he wasn't just at the other side of the country, just a plane ride away. Just one phone call away._

—Grayson knew neither of them was getting over it, yet.

Ethan put on a brave face, trying to get through this time of transition life of _after Dad's death._ Seeing Ethan felt like watching someone trying to move through a sea of thick molasses, trying so _hard_ just to get his feet one step in front of him, trying to move through life one step at a time.

Grayson didn't know how he could help Ethan, as he was going through the exact same thing by his side. He couldn't push Ethan forward or pull him, as Grayson was stuck by his side, trying to figure out how to move too. He couldn't do anything but to just be _there._ For all Grayson wanted to be of help, he was just as lost. Just as sad.

He was grieving too and he didn't know how to—

But, after submerging himself underwater, holding his breath as long as he could, that feeling of his lungs burning grounded him. Together with his desperate gasp for air, he could feel his head getting lighter. _Clearer._

It was almost like a feeling of being okay.

With a lighter chest and a clearer head, he found himself being in a better mood when Ethan came back home, from wherever he went when he needed to be alone. Somehow, his mood managed to affect Ethan instead of himself drowning in Ethan's apathy. So, somehow they finally managed to have a genuinely good day, for the rest of the day. He managed to get Ethan to smile, to laugh, to crack jokes, and he was even in a good enough mood to humour Grayson and have a late-night cuddle session. There was still carefulness in their conversation, neither of them wanting to destroy that fragile moment of temporary happiness.

Still, it was as if Grayson had found a key. A cheat code of some sort. By not keeping his promise to Ethan, their day got better, the best they had since their Dad's funeral. For once, it felt like they can get through the loss, somehow.

Grayson had sworn when he filed up his bathtub, knowing perfectly well how he was going behind Ethan's back. It was supposed to be just once.

It just worked so well and grief is a lingering emotion that never truly goes away.

* * *

Ethan couldn't really describe the feeling he had when he saw Grayson submerged in his bathtub, not long after their Dad's funeral procession was finished. He had a lot of emotion swirling around in his chest, in his head, when he saw Grayson submerged underwater and not coming back up.

The most prevalent one was fear.

He hasn't even truly processed yet, _how could Dad be gone? How could he? How is this real?_

_If this is a nightmare, why can't I wake up?_

—and seeing Grayson like that was too much on that day.

It didn't feel real. Nothing about that day felt real. Nothing, since the minute his Dad was declared dead, felt real. But, he knew if Grayson was gone too from that unreal reality, he would lose whatever fragment of _'real'_ in his life. 

His brain didn't think. He couldn't. He just _did_ as his desperation commanded, running towards the tub and fished Grayson out. It was only after Grayson was in his arms, soaking up his shirt and coughing on his shoulder, that he finally started thinking again, that maybe Grayson was just having a bath and Ethan jumped to the most extreme conclusion in his stress.

 _No_ — _he was under for too long. Too long. He didn't come up for air for too long of_ _fucking time._

"Ethan?" he heard Grayson rasped out. A terrible sort of breathlessness accompanied that sound. His voice sounded too small, too _weak,_ for Grayson.

"What the _fuck_ were you _doing?_ " Ethan asked, willing himself to— _not_ jump to conclusions. _Think._ ** _Think_** **.**

That terrible feeling of desperation came crawling back in his chest.

"I was taking a bath. I could still smell the dirt on the way home. I just didn't want to smell it anymore," Grayson had answered. His voice sounded hazy and unfocused, but he was answering. 

There was a lie there that Ethan could feel instead of heard. There was cold seeping into his bones as thoughts he didn't want to think of entered his brain. Even as Grayson said it, Ethan couldn't register the words as it was said, no matter how hard his brain wanted to believe it.

"Since when a bath involves you trying to _drown yourself_?"

The words he didn't even want to think of came out. There was no other word for it, no other logical conclusion. Still, there was a sliver of hope inside Ethan's desperate mind that expected Grayson to say something that makes _sense,_ tell him that he was being _extra_ and too _overprotective_ and nothing as _such_ was happening. Tell him that it was something harmless. Something they can laugh at about today, someday in the future when things start feeling more real, when death doesn't feel as fresh. Maybe.

"I do that, sometimes," Grayson said instead, and it was as if a little part, _his safe spot,_ of his crumbling world shatters too. 

"It was nice, you know. Under there. Calming. Felt like I could go to _sleep_."

Ethan's world was still in shambles. He still needed to figure out the pieces scattered around him, sort them out and try to understand where each piece should go now, after the loss of such a prominent figure in his life. Grayson was supposed to be by his side, helping him. They were supposed to help each other, to figure out how to remake _their_ world back from the shards. 

_T_ _he one real point in this unreal reality._

The fear bubbled up again, as well as desperation. His brain couldn't make sense of what Grayson was saying. 

"What does that mean?" Ethan asked, feeling like bile was climbing up his throat, feeling like his blood was boiling and freezing at the same time. 

Grayson couldn't even _look_ at _Ethan._ His eyes were still on the _fucking water_ —

 _"_ Grayson, what the _fuck_ does that _mean!?"_

He was gripping too tight. His voice was too loud. His yell echoed in the bathroom. And finally, Grayson finally looked at him.

Then he looked through his shoulder, to the door behind him. The door he left open wide.

 _'Mom can't know,'_ he realized. She can't, not now. Not when he could still remember her crying. When he can still remember her face as she tried to be strong for her children.

And Cameron. She would—

He knew that was the sentiment shared by Grayson too. He could see the way started to look panicky and wanting to go somewhere else.

He must've knows what he was doing was... _Not good_.

_'Then, why the fuck did he do it in the first place?'_

* * *

Grayson said he'd been doing this.... _thing,_ since he was in middle school. This wasn't a thing that only recently started, in response to _this_ loss. No, it's been going on for far longer than that.

Ethan knew there are things in Grayson's life he didn't know. Things that either Grayson didn't think was important enough to tell, or things that Grayson simply wanted to keep a secret. Things that happened in the short tomes they happen to be away from each other. They didn't report to each other every minute detail of each other's lives, and Ethan wouldn't want to do that either. For all they were always together, they weren't attached at the hip.

Still, Ethan thought that this was something he should've seen. Should've _know_ n.

This was something Grayson has been doing since _middle schoo_ l.

How could Ethan miss _this?_

 _How_ —

Grayson claimed he wasn't suicidal. That he wasn't trying to kill himself or anything like that. But, there was still something about _everythin_ g that felt... _Wrong_.

Ethan didn't know. He couldn't _thin_ k.

_Dad would've known what to do._

Ethan didn't know what else to do besides asking Grayson to stop. For all Grayson seems to think he was making sense, Ethan just couldn't understand what he was saying. It couldn't be a good thing, depriving yourself of oxygen. You need air to live. To _thin_ k.

Breathing is _important_. That's just common sense.

Why would Grayson want to deprive himself of that?

There was a lot going on. He has a lot on his plate. Dad's death means a lot of things will change. A lot of things that may now fall on Ethan's shoulder. _There's too much_ and Ethan couldn't _think_. 

He just knew he never wanted to see Grayson like that again.

Grayson promised. For all Ethan knew his brother was just appeasing him, the words calmed him anyway. He just _couldn't—not now._

Grayson is still solid in his arms. He's warm and dry and still _breathing_.

 _'It's okay,'_ he told himself _'He promised he'll stop. He knows it now not to do it again. He won't do it anymore. That was just a stupid thing he did. We're okay.'_

But, Ethan couldn't help his sense of paranoia, even as they went back to LA and decided they needed to start filming again.

( _Dad died, but the world moves on, and he has to move too or get left behind—)_

He tried not to let himself get too paranoid. He didn't want to start getting controlling or overprotective. Grayson did promise. And, as far as he could see, Grayson did keep it.

_(How would you know, when you didn't know he did it before?)_

He missed Dad. He wished he can ask Dad what he should do. Ask him if Ethan was just being paranoid. That Grayson was actually fine and Ethan was just too dramatic. Or if it wasn't fine and Ethan should keep a closer eye.

( _He didn't even know what to do with his grief, feeling the scary numbness the longer he held them back. But, there was no time for_ grie _f,_ _ **life is going to keep moving on.**_ )

Grayson was the one constant companion he has through this, _the one real point in this unreal reality._ Even when he pushed Grayson away, he still wanted him at arm's length, where he can still reach to when he needed to.

When they finally have a good day, _best day_ since their Dad's funeral, Ethan thought this will be it. They can still have days like this. Grayson must have stopped his _habi_ t. He's good. Ethan will be too. They'll be _okay_.

* * *

_Ethan just wanted to surprise Grayson a bit. He told Grayson he was going to get his car washed, but in truth, he went to buy something for Grayson. Just a little surprise to make their day a bit better._

_Today just felt like another stressful-sad_ _day and Ethan wanted to do something about it. Be a good brother._

 _Instead, he found Grayson floating in his bathtub_.

_And he wasn't waking up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: This wasn't supposed to get this fucking long FU—
> 
> Is this part even making sense? More TBC I guess? I'm not entirely sure. This is supposed to be a drabble... What am I doing...... 😑😑
> 
> By the way, please comment 'kudos' in this chapter just to let me know you still like this, just so I know you peeps are still reading and liking this. Hell, do it anonymously if you prefer. If that's not too much to ask, anyway😅
> 
> -I just realized how often I made Gray suffer in my fanfics... I'm sorry Gray. I swear I love you😅-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grayson remembered the strange feeling of calm.
> 
> He remembered the sensation of someone, or something, telling him, 'it's all going to be alright'. Not by voice, the water is silent like that, but everything in his body told him so, even his heartbeat.
> 
> 'It's all right. Everything is all right.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: on to part 3. Don't worry, this is the last one. And a long time coming. Disclaimer: I'm not a therapist nor I have formal education on psychology and I also never drowned, so everything is my imagination at play and take everything with a grain of salt.
> 
> P.S.: Listen to Hold On by Chord Overstreet for the first part of this chapter if you want. Or maybe might as well listen to it through the whole chapter. I dunno, I got the Feels for the first part to it. I like the Nightcore Deeper Version and I feel like it kind of fits more, though both are just as somber, so listen whichever you prefer, I guess. I imagine it would be the BGM for that scene, in Ethan's POV.
> 
> Now on to the story!

_Grayson remembered the strange feeling of calm._

_He remembered the sensation of someone, or some_ thing, _telling him, 'it's all going to be alright'._ _Not by voice, the water is silent like that, but everything in his body told him so, even his heartbeat._

_'It's all right. Everything is all right.'_

_He thought about coming up. He had been under for longer than he usually does. He knew this from the way everything seemed to fade around him, how the pain and the burn in his chest turned into something less painful, gradually fading into a memory of old hurt, something he wasn't sure had happened before. While there was a faint sense of accomplishment for managing to set his personal record, something also felt weird. There was a part of him that thought, 'I should get out now.' But, it was like the water was holding his body hostage. He couldn't move. His body didn't want to move_.

_It was a strange, eerie sense of calm, as his world shrunk to the surrounding water. The water was always relaxing, a muffler to the outside world. However, there was something about it now that registered somewhere in Grayson as 'stupid-dangerous-_ fuckthisisreallybad _'_. _Then, the realization came and it finally clicked to Grayson this situation is likely what Ethan was so afraid of all this time._

'Oh, **shit** ,' _was all his brain managed to_ _sluggishly conjure up, before everything turned dark._

* * *

_Something is smashing my chest._

_("Breathe_ — _")_

_Pain. Noise_. _Lights. So many bright lights_.

_Red, flashing. Loud,_ loud _._

_("— please!")_

_It hurts._ _Stop._

_Yelling. Someone is calling. Me?_ _Where is_ — _?_

_("Don't leave m_ — _")_

* * *

Grayson thought he possibly had fucked up when he woke up to the blurry sight of an unfamiliar ceiling and the beeping sound of what he thought was a heart monitor. He _knew_ he had fucked up when he saw Ethan by his side when he turned his head, hunched over on the uncomfortable hospital chair with his hands covering his face.

Even in his half-awake state, he was aware he might be in the hospital ( _the bed he's on feels like a hospital bed and the beeping sounded too familiar to not be a heart monitor_ ) and that Ethan was wearing his shirt backwards and inside out. Grayson was somehow sure that the square patch with small words written on it under Ethan's neck was the shirt's tag and not part of whatever fashion Ethan was into. His slowly booting brain kind of found this very curious, though for some reason his chest hurts at seeing Ethan with his shirt all wrong and _how could anyone let Ethan out of the house looking like that._

"E..." Grayson called out, wanting to ask why Ethan was wearing his shirt inside out and if he was okay. Also, he wanted to ask what happened, but he has a feeling the whole thing was his own fault, though his brain is still all muddled on the why.

He was surprised how hoarse he sounded and how painful it was to speak, but at least he got his brother's attention. Ethan's head immediately shot up, his bloodshot eyes immediately found Grayson's half-lidded ones as he was still trying to parse through his foggy mind.

_'Oh no,'_ Grayson's brain said once his sluggish brain registered how haggard Ethan looked, slowly panicking as it dawned on him how bad he might've fucked up _, whatever it was he fucked up._

Ethan immediately stood up from his seat, the chair's legs squeaked against the floor as he did. Grayson's hospital bed rattled when Ethan went and gripped hard at the railing to lean over Grayson, face pale and _extremely worried_ _(and scared, so very scared, don't be scared)_ as he started asking questions one after another and Grayson could barely keep up. Though, Ethan's hand on his does feel comforting since he has no idea what's going on yet.

_Grounding? Yeah, that's the word_.

"Gray, can you hear me? Do you recognize me? Do you know who I am? Please, _please_ don't actually have brain damage. _Fuck,_ please be _okay._ "

Grayson really can't really remember the details of what exactly happened yet right now, but he's pretty sure it was horrible since he's in the hospital and Ethan looks and sounds like _that_.

"Wait, I gotta call the doctor—" Ethan said, before Grayson could form a word of reply. Everything was hazy, but Grayson thinks he can hear panic climbing up in Ethan's voice. His shaking hand ( _shaking, oh, that seems bad_...) reached over somewhere above Grayson's head and pressed a button there, possibly to call the doctor or a nurse. Grayson feels kind of stupid right now since Ethan asked so many questions, and he couldn't remember what Ethan asked and what he should answer.

"Ethan..." Grayson tried to call out again. His throat felt like sandpaper and water really would be nice. He wished Ethan would understand bringing water to him already.

Or ice cream. Ice cream sounds kind of great right now, to be honest. Ice cream makes everything better.

Ethan finally got him a glass of water though, so while Grayson would like ice cream too, he took the drink gratefully with Ethan's help. He also found himself being more aware now that he's more hydrated.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Ethan asked softly, as he put the glass on the table not far away. He was turned away, facing the table, so Grayson couldn't see his expression.

Ethan wasn't yelling and his voice wasn't hard and pointed, so not his angry-voice. Instead, Ethan's voice trembled, like he was crying, but without the tears. That was the worst kind of Ethan-voice Grayson ever had to hear.

"Why did I have to come home and found you like that?" Ethan continued, still with that voice. "I told you to stop. You _promised_ me you would. _You promised._ "

Grayson tried really hard, racking through his still somewhat hazy memory for any hints of what might've happened. He could remember being sad, having a stressful-sad day, and Ethan left the house for _something_ , stressful and sad, so he _—_

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh, that's bad.

Really bad.

_F u c k._

"...I'm sorry," Grayson tried saying, his throat still feeling the pain even after a glass of drink. Even though when the words fell out of his lips, he knew it wasn't enough. But, it was better than not saying anything, right?

Then, Ethan turned around and Grayson could see his eyes, glaring hard in anger and glistened with unshed tears, and Grayson wondered if he should've said nothing at all. Or maybe said something else. Something more reassuring.

Something that can say more clearly how sorry he was, for making Ethan look like this.

The sight of it made pained Grayson's heart and he wanted to cry. His chest hurts and his eyes burned, so maybe he _was_ crying too. Though, before either of them could say anything more, the doctor came in. Ethan stepped back, giving the doctor room to work. There were questions, like his name, where he is, and other basic things that Grayson answered mostly on automatic.

"Your brother said you fell asleep in your bath?" the doctor asked. That wasn't what actually happened, he doesn't think, but he's also not sure if he could explain what really happened, so... Close enough, he guessed. Losing consciousness is kind of like sleeping, right? So, he simply nodded. However, the doctor's expression didn't look quite... relaxed. There was something pinched around his eyes and a frown he couldn't quite hide.

Ethan has been a silent shadow behind the doctor, not once interjecting or trying to correct any of Grayson's answers.

"I see..."

There were a couple more questions after that before he concluded that Grayson was physically fine, no lasting damage to his brain or anywhere else in his organ. The worst he had was a couple of bruised ribs from the CPR he got (well, that explained the persistent chest pain), so he should be back to his peak condition after a couple of days rest. The doctor then left with a note for Ethan to come meet him in his office, as Grayson's guardian, to discuss some details. Ethan looked really reluctant to leave Grayson, but really, he's fine. He's still a bit sleepy anyway.

Once Ethan left with the doctor after another glance back at Grayson, he immediately closed his eyes, sighing at his own stupidity that landed him here, and decided once he gets discharged he'll buy something for Ethan as an 'I'm-sorry-for-scaring-you-and-breaking-my-promise-and-almost-died' gift. ' _Maybe a car? Should I get him a Tesla? Or would something fancier be better?'_

He was still contemplating on what he should get as he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Being in the Doctor's office reminded Ethan too much of the times when he was told of his Dad's prognosis, with Mom and Grayson and Cam in the room with him, trying not to break apart as the doctor told them how long Dad had left to live, stuck between the unreality of it and the fear of losing someone so _big_ in his life.

Though, right now, in a different office with a different doctor in this different circumstance with only him and the doctor in the room, he's not sure if that should make him feel better or worse.

The solemnity feels almost the same and for a second, he was back there, and Ethan wished he wasn't alone.

(He wished he wasn't here at all.)

"Excuse me for asking this, but does Mr. Grayson have a history in self-harm or any kind of suicide attempt?"

Mom would cry if she was here, hearing that, so maybe it was good there was only Ethan here. That way, Mom never has to hear such question being asked to her.

"I don't think so, unless you count his tattoos as self-harm," Ethan answered, his tone more pointed and sarcastic than he'd like to. He wasn't even lying ( _was he_?), Grayson did say he wasn't suicidal ( _he wasn't, he_ wasn't). He was just _—_ being _stupid_.

_He was just being_ _—careless. He wasn't_ _—_

"Why are you asking?"

The doctor looked at Ethan with something sympathetic in his eyes, also something like pity, and Ethan thought he probably has an idea of what the doctor would say next and he didn't want to hear it.

"The thing is, with bathtub drowning, it's usually more dangerous for children than they are for adults. In adults, it was more common if they were either too drunk or drugged to wake up in time when they get underwater, but your brother's blood work was clean. He also didn't have any prior condition or a sleep disorder that might prevent his reflex from kicking in. I would suspect he was purposely drowned, but there wasn't any mark on him that would show he was being held down, so I have to draw the possibility that he purposely tried to drown himself. Of course, this is all purely hypothetical, but it does pose some concern, which is why I needed to ask if he had attempted something like this before, or if he has a history in suicidal ideation."

( _Grayson said he wasn't_ suicidal. _He said he didn't want to_ die.)

Ethan tried to swallow through his suddenly dry throat as he tried to think on what, exactly, he can say to that conclusion.

* * *

When Grayson opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the sight of Ethan by his bedside, again, and holding his hand, again. Though, this time he looked slightly better, if more tired. He already changed his shirt and this time, it wasn't inside out or backwards anymore. Ethan also combed his hair, though it already looked a bit mussed.

"Hey," Grayson greeted, and he was glad to see Ethan giving him a small, though tired, smile.

"Hey," Ethan greeted back. "Good to see you up. How are you feeling?"

"Kind of good, honestly," Grayson grinned. He still felt a little lethargic and his chest kind of twanged when he breathed too hard or moved too fast, but he was still feeling mostly fine.

"Oh, that's great," Ethan said. "That means I can tell you how angry I am at you right now."

Grayson's grin disappeared and he was, again, made aware of how much he fucked up. Now that he looked closer, there was that tightness on Ethan's expression that said how much anger he was trying not to show. At least Ethan was still holding his hand?

"I'm sorry," Grayson said contritely, staring at their joined hands. He felt too guilty to look straight up to Ethan's angry face. "I really didn't mean to get this bad. I don't know what I was thinking."

Grayson heard Ethan exhaled, the sigh sounded so tired and _heavy,_ and Grayson hated it was because of him.

He really didn't mean to. He just wanted to settle his grief, cope with it in the way he knew worked, no matter how fleeting. He wanted to make himself better enough that he can help Ethan through _his_ grief. He didn't mean to be another reason for Ethan's _grief._

He thought, if he can get Ethan to feel better, maybe he'll get there too. Maybe, then, he won't feel the need to—anymore. He thought—

"The doctor asked me if you were trying to kill yourself," Ethan said, tone purposely flat. Grayson had to look up then, because he _wasn't._

"I wasn't!" he denied vehemently. "Ethan, I swear I wasn't. I wouldn't do that to you! It was an accident. I just _—_ overestimated myself, that's all. It was a _stupid accident,_ I swear. I wasn't like, did it on purpose!"

Ethan scoffed, though there was nothing mocking about that scoff. It sounded more resigned, more like... Tired. Like he didn't really believe Grayson.

Grayson hated that Ethan had a _reason_ for it.

"You did do it on purpose, though," Ethan said, something hard and edged in his voice. Then, his voice kept rising and getting angrier as he kept on talking.

"You filled up your bathtub and waited until I wasn't home and did it. You made sure I won't be there to stop you. Then, you stayed under long enough under for you to lose consciousness, Gray. On purpose. You were in your fucking tub, not in the deep ocean and all you had to do was _sit the fuck up_ once you run out of breath, but you didn't _do that._ You weren't _drunk_ , you weren't on _drugs,_ and you stayed under there on fucking _purpose!_ You _forced_ yourself to stay under there until you actually lost _consciousness_. You weren't fucking _breathing_ when I got you out, _fuck_ _—"_

Grayson's heart broke when Ethan's voice cracked at the end. His hand was holding on to Grayson tightly, but it was shaking in Grayson's grip. His head was bowed down miserably and even though he didn't see tears falling down his cheeks, Grayson thought Ethan might be crying anyway, and he could feel his own tears coming up. It was a horrible feeling, knowing that everything was Grayson's fault, that he _did_ this. Even worse, Grayson has no idea how to fix this. Because _—_

_Because, where was the lie, when everything Ethan said was exactly what Grayson did?_

But, at the same time, it also _wasn't_. 

_T_ _hat wasn't what happened._

"I'm sorry, E," Grayson said again, his own voice cracking inside his throat. All he could do was tightening his own grip on Ethan's shaking hand. He wanted—he wanted to hold Ethan closer, hug him, reassure him that he _wasn't—_

"I'm sorry. I'm so, _so sorry._ But, I swear Ethan, I didn't do any of that because I _wanted_ to kill myself. _I swear,_ I won't do that to you!" Grayson tried, almost desperately. He just did something _stupid,_ not—he _didn't_ try to _kill_ himself. That _wasn't_ what he meant to do, no what he _intended_.

It was just a stupid fucking _accident_.

"I wanna believe you so bad, Gray," Ethan said, head still bowed down. "But, you made it so fucking _hard_."

"E—"

"When the doctor asked me, I wanted to defend you. I wanted to tell him you're not fucking suicidal. But then, he said those things about you drowning yourself on purpose, and I thought, _isn't that what you were doing?"_

_"_ I wasn't trying to _kill_ myself, Ethan!" Grayson said again, desperate to convince Ethan of that fact. "I don't wanna die. Believe me, _please_."

Ethan shook his head, still not looking at Grayson. He wanted Ethan to look back, see, _convince_ Ethan he wasn't _lying_.

Ethan never doubted his words before, not for anything important. This is _important_. But, Grayson can't think yet, what words he could say to not make it worse, to make things _better,_ to _fix this?_

It hurts.

"I _thought_ you didn't," Ethan said, a humorless smile on his lips. "But I don't fucking _know_ anymore, Grayson. I don't _—_ _shit,_ I'm _trying_ to believe you, but what the doctor said _—_ what _you_ said _—_ I don't know how to make it all make _sense_! If you _weren't_ _—_ then what the fuck _did_ you _do?_ You _drowned_ yourself! I found you, in _your own bathtub,_ not _breathing!_ What _—I don't_ _—"_

Ethan let out a harsh sigh, his hand pulled away from Grayson's grasp, head bowed down low with his hands gripping his hair in frustration. 

Grayson didn't know how he can explain it to Ethan. Grayson didn't want to _die,_ he _knew that_. He didn't want to leave Ethan like _that._ He just wanted _—_

He was just trying to—

"...What else did the doctor say?" Grayson decided to ask. Ethan didn't respond for a second before he finally lifted his head and looked at Grayson again.

"You're fine, physically," Ethan said, voice calmer now. "You'll have to be here until tomorrow for observation. You're not gonna be on suicide watch or anything, but he did suggest talking to a therapist. You don't have to do it, it's not mandatory, but he thought it would be good for you. Would you consider that?"

Grayson wasn't sure about it. He wasn't _suicidal_. He didn't think he needs it. It was just an accident. Stupid, shitty accident, but he doesn't think it was something he should get therapy for.

But _—_

But, maybe...?

"Okay," he said. "I don't think I need it, but I'll go if it'll make you feel better. I'll go."

Ethan sighed. His expression was still pinched, but Grayson thought Ethan might look a little bit more relieved. 

"Okay," Ethan said. "Alright. Hell, I probably need one too," Ethan tried to joke with a dry chuckle. 

Ethan then grabbed his hand again. Grayson thought maybe he was trying to ground himself back, something that Grayson also feels. There were no more words exchanged and Grayson wasn't sure if he wanted to break the silence. It wasn't a comfortable one, but it wasn't one he can break with a joke either. Also, Ethan didn't look like he was fine yet. He was still tense, trying to project calmness while hiding his turmoil, and Grayson wished he could assure Ethan better, but _—_

"I _—_ are we okay?" Grayson asked, hating the hesitance he could hear in his voice. Ethan and he had never been _not okay,_ no matter how bad their fights get.They always come back together to each other and Grayson _hates_ not being sure about it now. 

"I really was just being stupid. I promise, _really_ promise this time, I won't do it again. I know better now. Like, I don't need therapy to tell me what I did was stupid. I really, really know that now. Like, I'll still go, but like... You _have_ to believe me that I had _no_ intention to _kill_ myself."

Ethan's hold tightened on his hand.

"Can you tell me why you did it?" Ethan asked carefully. "You promised me before, Gray. You told me you wouldn't do it again. You don't break your promise, not when it's _important_. So, why did you?"

Grayson didn't know if he wanted to tell Ethan, his thought process when he decided it was worth breaking his promise. It took him a couple of moment for him to steel himself before he answered, voice soft and hesitant. He looked down to their joined hands as he talked, trying to form the words he needed to explain himself.

"...I thought, if I can make myself feel better, I can help you. We're both still _—_ grieving. We had so many bad days. I haven't seen you smile for _—_ weeks, not until we were in front of a camera and you _had_ to. It was just... Everything felt so _heavy_ and we were _— Something_ felt distant and we were grieving and there was _nothing_ that can be done, I couldn't help you, you couldn't help me, and I just wanted _—_

"I meant to do it just once. Just the one, just to get myself back on track. It helped me before, I wanted it to help me again. Then, when I got under, I felt lighter. Like, for a while, my body forgot how to grieve. I felt _peaceful_ , the grief felt like it was _— diluted,_ I guess. And then, I managed to help you feel better too since I didn't feel so heavy anymore. When you feel better, _I_ feel better, but to make you feel better, I had to... _lessen_ my grief, somehow. It was like I figured it out, a _—_ formula, of sorts, to solve our problem. So, I..."

Grayson trailed off, glancing up to see Ethan's expression. Ethan looked pained again, so Grayson looked back to their tangled fingers.

"...Sorry," he said again, lacking any better words to say.

"Don't _—,"_ Ethan started, but he cut himself off, biting his lips. Ethan then grabbed Grayson's other hand, holding them both tightly even as they trembled.

"Just stay with me," he said, emotion thick in his voice. "Just _—_ we're _both_ grieving, Gray. I don't _want_ you to make me feel better, not if it's like that. I don't need you to _—shit_ _—"_

Grayson watched as a tear finally fell down Ethan's eyes. His own sight becomes blurry too. He felt wetness trailing down to his cheek, a lump constricting in his throat.

"I just fucking need _you,_ " Ethan continued brokenly. "Don't make me grieve for you too, you fucking _dumbass_."

Grayson couldn't help crying like a baby after that.

* * *

Things didn't exactly get back to normal after that. Ethan got nightmares for a while, something Grayson couldn't help but feel guilty for. Sometimes, Ethan would wake up crying, choking out Grayson's name. At those times, all Grayson could do was lay beside him, assuring him that Grayson was still there, with him. He would also cry with Ethan at those times.

Ethan also wouldn't trust him around water for a while, at least not alone, but that's fine. He's had enough water for a while, anyway. He's more careful now about holding his breath, taking the slight burn in his lungs that he usually ignored more seriously. 

Grayson would admit that sometimes he would miss it, that peaceful sensation when he was underwater. That feeling of how nothing will go wrong, how everything will be all right. The serenity of simply being underwater. It was incredibly tempting, especially when he has another bad day and his grief and sadness felt especially overwhelming. 

_(It's not a big deal. Just water,_ the temptation whispered. _Just for a bit, a short dip. Ethan wouldn't have to know._ )

But, he remembered Ethan, remembered his promise and his resolve, so he called his therapist instead and managed to stay away for another day.

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Well, that was... Emotional. The first part of this chapter was already written for a long fucking while, but their conversation... Whoooooo, that was hard. I tried to make it not too cheesy or stilted. Sorry if it still came out awkward, I did my best. This is finally done and I am relieved. 

**Author's Note:**

> TBC, maybe?
> 
> This is probably my one drabble that doesn't reach a conclusion of some sort. Who knows, maybe I'll have some more parts added. We'll see. *shrugs* Meanwhile, I guess the end is how you want to imagine it.
> 
> Edit [06/14/2020]: Nope, it's now over and done with! Complete! No longer TBC! Woooooo~~


End file.
